


even if we don’t know everything

by intuitionist



Series: brooklyn boys [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: 96 line is cat line, Bruno Mars the Cat, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hotpot the Cat, M/M, Mutual Pining, Roommates, all you need is love and a cat, cat rescue, college friends versus adulthood, pandemic Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28279473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intuitionist/pseuds/intuitionist
Summary: Jun has never mentioned the kittens, and there’s no way he would have not mentioned them if he’d seen them. It was Jun’s weakness for small cute things that lured first him, then Wonwoo, into cat rescue and TNR in the first place. This pair is ridiculously adorable.(It’s a long November in New York during the pandemic. Wonwoo, Junhui, Soonyoung, and Jihoon are rescuing street cats and doing their best to get by.)
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Lee Jihoon | Woozi/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Series: brooklyn boys [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077344
Comments: 30
Kudos: 102





	even if we don’t know everything

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a cute little 96z ficlet and it grew into this 17k word monster. Oops. Please note that this is very much a story set in the garbage trash fire that has been 2020. If you’re not ready to read about pandemic life (totally fair), you’ll probably want to save this for later.

Tonight Wonwoo has brought out the big guns—sardines. According to Jun, this particular target has already ignored Friskies, canned tuna, and fried chicken. Wonwoo is confident the sardines will do the trick. He’s rarely encountered a street cat who can resist the lure of smelly fillets in oil. 

These sardines were a donation from Jihoon, so they’re ridiculously high quality, probably imported. Before Wonwoo stumbled into the world of cat rescue and TNR, he only remembers buying sardines one time, for some pasta with sardines and capers recipe that his then-boyfriend had seen in the _New York Times_ food section. (The pasta was amazing. The boyfriend, not so much.) Now he has sardine tins stocked up in his closet, next to his out-of-season shoes and a squash racket he bought when Seungcheol was encouraging him to exercise more. It’s not the only way his new hobby has slowly taken over his home.

He scrapes the sardines onto a paper plate, wrinkling his nose at the strong odor, and then carefully props up the drop trap. This is his brand new Tomahawk DT-1, since this cat is far too wary to enter a box trap with a trip plate. She has been teasing Jun for four weeks, ignoring his best lures, sometimes watching him closely from a safe spot on top of a nearby wall. Jun has filled Wonwoo’s phone with blurry pictures of the cat running away or grooming her fluffy face. Now Jun’s busy with three bottle babies who landed in his lap on Saturday, so Wonwoo has offered to trap it for the spay/neuter appointment that Jun had optimistically booked for tomorrow.

As cat rescue goes, it’s not a terrible situation. The neighbors are welcoming (no need for stealthy trespassing), and the feeder is cooperating with them. She’s actually the one who reached out for their help. Much of November has been strangely mild, but today it definitely feels like winter’s coming. Still, there’s no rain, and the sunset is pretty, even if it’s depressingly early. Curse the time change. Wonwoo takes a picture and sends it to Jun. _Ready._

The streetlights have been buzzing for nearly two hours before the cat shows up. By then, Wonwoo’s thermos is empty, and he’s this close to texting Mingyu or Soonyoung to bring him a refill. Wonwoo has only seen the target in Jun’s pictures, but he is sure this cat is the one. Tuxedo with a white locket on her chest, both ears untipped, beautiful fluffy tail. But much to Wonwoo’s surprise, the cat is not alone, as two roly-poly kittens amble in her wake. 

Jun has never mentioned the kittens, and there’s no way he would have not mentioned them if he’d seen them. It was Jun’s weakness for small cute things that lured first him, then Wonwoo, into cat rescue and TNR in the first place. This pair is ridiculously adorable. It’s too dark and too far for Wonwoo to be sure of their coloring, but one is dark and one is light. They’re either fluffy or chonky or both. Mom cat seems to have been doing her job well.

Now the trick will be getting all three. It’s an exercise in patience. The kittens are playful, easily distracted, wandering in and out from under the trap. The mom is wary but definitely interested in the sardines, no doubt partly because her feeder agreed to withhold food today. There are several moments when all three are under the trap, but Wonwoo doesn’t dare to pull the trigger because they’re not yet fully focused on the food. He doesn’t want to risk any of them being injured when the trap comes down. 

The sardines do the trick in the end. (They always do.) Wonwoo pulls the string, the trap falls, and there’s the usual clamor as mom and kittens discover that their love of fish has betrayed them. Wonwoo’s ready with a drop cloth and a transport carrier. It’s a good thing he usually has an extra one in his car.

Once he’s loaded up his car with three very unhappy cats, he takes a minute to text Jun the good news. _Got mom AND two bonus dummies. Sardines every time, bro._

His phone chimes with Jun’s excited responses all the way to the animal hospital. 

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Jun’s friend Renjun—Dr. Huang at work—meets Wonwoo in the parking lot. Thanks to pandemic safety procedures, Wonwoo’s no longer allowed to go inside the animal hospital with the cats. It’s not a big deal—most of the cats they trap don’t really find his presence particularly comforting on the first day. Renjun raises his eyebrows when he sees Wonwoo has two carriers.

“Junhui didn’t tell me to expect kittens,” he says.

“They’re a package deal.” Junhui and Renjun have been friends for years, and Wonwoo’s had more than one friendly drink with Renjun, back when their friend groups could gather in bars without being socially irresponsible. “Sorry, I know you do this as a favor. She hadn’t brought them to the feeding site before.”

“At least they look fairly healthy. You’ll still have to wait outside. Is your phone number the same? I’ll call you when I have an estimate.”

Wonwoo climbs back into his car. The cold isn’t too bad once he’s out of the wind. He knows the wait will be long. Busy and understaffed, the animal hospital is always running behind schedule, and pandemic protocols have just made that worse. He mourns his empty coffee thermos again, but nearly cheers when he finds a half-frozen granola bar in the front pocket of his backpack. He chews on that while he connects his dying phone to his spare battery. Jun has sent him a video of his gray kitten latching onto its bottle, its ears frantically wiggling as it suckles. There’s also a message from Wonwoo’s roommate, Soonyoung.

_I got pad see yew and crispy duck from that Thai place you like. When are you getting home?_

The message is almost an hour old. _Didn’t see this till now. Trapping tonight._

_Any luck?_

He sends Soonyoung the same picture he’d sent to Jun. _Two surprise kittens. Probably need the bathroom again._ The bathroom is their quarantine space of choice when rescues are too big for a crate but not ready for the freedom of the entire apartment.

_I’ll start thinking of names!_

Soonyoung moved in two summers ago after Wonwoo’s terrible ex moved out. They’d known each other casually through Jihoon for a couple years before they became roommates. Soonyoung had been looking for a place closer to the studio where he taught, preferably one where downstairs neighbors wouldn’t complain about his dancing. Wonwoo had just needed someone to pay half the rent of his garden level unit. As roommates go, Soonyoung is pretty great. He didn’t complain at all when Wonwoo started bringing home in a steady stream of rescued cats and kittens. He has now claimed naming rights, however, to any animal in residence. Soonyoung is sure that his names make it easier for the cats to find forever homes. Wonwoo isn’t convinced that’s true, but it’s a small price to pay for domestic peace. 

Wonwoo turns the volume of his ringer way up and hopes any incoming call will be loud enough to wake him up if he dozes off.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

When Renjun calls, it’s long past ten. He sounds harried as he gives Wonwoo a quick rundown. “Sorry, we had back-to-back emergencies, people are so stupid sometimes. The mom cat seems like she’s in okay shape, and we’ll spay and vaccinate her in the morning. If everything goes well, you can pick her up at night or the following morning. No chip. Pretty feisty, doubt she’s friendly.”

“It’s okay, we can return here. There’s a caretaker on that block.”

“The kittens are probably about eight weeks old. Two girls. They don’t weigh enough for surgery yet. They’re mostly fluff, though I wouldn’t be surprised if they have bellies full of worms. I’ve given them the usual cleanup, including Capstar, plus their first shots. They’ll need a flea bath. I’ll squeeze them onto the spay schedule when they make weight. You’ll be taking them?”

“Yeah, Junnie’s too busy with the neonates. I’m surprised he hasn’t sent you the pictures.”

“Oh, he has. Ready for the total?”

It’s not the scariest number Wonwoo’s heard in this work. He knows Renjun provides a lot of services at cost, but there’s still a limit to what he can do for them. Everyone’s resources have been hit hard during the pandemic. Not for the first time, Wonwoo reads his credit card number to Renjun over the phone. Once he told Renjun to just keep it on file. The vet had laughed and told him they didn’t have a fancy enough computer system for that. 

“We’ll email the receipt. A tech will be out soon with the kittens.”

The girls are quiet on the drive back to Wonwoo’s neighborhood. That’s not surprising. Cats with little familiarity with humans don’t vocalize much for their attention. Wonwoo circles the block a couple times looking for a parking spot but finally finds one pretty close to his building. Soonyoung’s at the apartment door as soon as he hears the jingle of Wonwoo’s keys.

“Let me see them,” he fusses, peeking into the carrier. Two pairs of terrified round eyes stare back at him. “Aw, they’re very cute dummies.”

Wonwoo is not sure when he and Junhui started calling all the kittens they trapped “dummies” because they gave up their freedom for fish, but Soonyoung definitely picked it up from them. It does something a little weird to Wonwoo’s heart every time he hears it. “Do you want to take a shower before we set them up in the bathroom? Oh, there’s some Thai left for you in the fridge when you’re ready.”

“Yes, and thanks,” Wonwoo says. What he really wants to do is fall into his bed with his clothes on and his face unwashed and his teeth unbrushed, but Soonyoung’s too good of a friend to let him do that. He leaves the kittens to his cooing roommate and stumbles off to the bathroom.

It’s been a very long day.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Half a mile away, Junhui wakes up to another alarm on his phone. Every four hours it hollers at him to wake up and feed the babies enough kitten milk replacement to keep them alive for another day. It’s now Wednesday, and he’s been doing this since Saturday. The routine is at least familiar, even if it’s still kind of unbearable.

There’s a new photo from Wonwoo, showing two medium-haired kittens cowering behind the base of his toilet. One is a pretty mackerel tabby with very green eyes and white mittens. The other looks like she might be a lynx point, though she also has dainty little white feet. Neither of them otherwise looks much like their mom, but that’s the mystery of feline genetics for you.

_Names?_

_SY hasn’t decided yet. Two girls._

_He’s got to run out of anime characters eventually._

_Not sure about that._

Junhui’s trio consists of two house panthers and a graybie. Renjun thought they were probably about two and half weeks old when a dog walker found them screaming for attention under a bush. Through the usual neighborhood word of mouth, Junhui had gotten an urgent plea for advice in his DMs. Once he learned that the kittens were dirty and cold and that no one had ever seen the mom, he told the finder to scoop them up and keep them warm while he hurried over. When Junhui arrived, the soft-hearted finder was thinking about keeping them. So Junhui patiently explained the round-the-clock care the kittens would need in their coming weeks to make it. 

“Most people can’t do it. It’s not their fault. Jobs, kids, no cats allowed in their building. I’ve got my own place, no roommates, and I work from home. And I have all the supplies ready.”

The finder’s name was Dokyeom. He was a kindergarten teacher with a fancy white dog and a kind smile. “Can you send me updates? They’re so cute. It’s so sad.”

“You have my insta, right?” Junhui added, having learned it was better to be honest. “The first couple weeks can be touch and go with the littlest ones. I’ll do my best, but they’ve had a rough start.”

The kittens are barely stirring, piled onto the heating disc in their covered bed. As usual he starts with the smaller black kitten, the one who is having the toughest time gaining weight. He’s pretty confident the other two will be fine, with more time and more love, but this little friend worries him a lot. “You have to eat lots so you can catch up with your brother and sister,” Junhui whispers to him, petting his head with the tip of his index finger. 

By the time all three kittens have been fed and pottied and weighed and their heating disc has been rewarmed in the microwave, it’s past midnight. Junhui curls up on his couch in his fluffiest blanket and scrolls through his phone. He knows how lucky he is to live alone in a place that he owns, thanks to a clever piece of code that he wrote for a start-up three years ago, but sometimes he wishes he had a roommate like Wonwoo has Soonyoung. It’s been hard during the pandemic, only seeing friends at a distance in backyards and parks, without hugs or even unmasked faces. 

His resident cat, Hotpot, hops down from the top nest of her cat tree and makes a beeline for his lap. Her warm weight is a comfort as always. Junhui has joked that he should have named her Hot Water Bottle. She purrs as she rests her chin on his arm, and he’s careful not to jostle her as he scans his social media feeds. Jihoon has posted a new track to his SoundCloud. Junhui sets it to play on a loop and lets himself sleep until the next feeding alarm rings. 

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Wonwoo learned about TNR, or Trap-Neuter-Return, from Junhui, and Junhui learned about it from Instagram. A picture of an adorably woebegone kitten getting a bath in a pot in someone’s kitchen sink showed up as a suggested post of interest. Junhui followed a link from that person’s post to an educational website, where he learned about the shortage of free and low-cost veterinary care, the overburdened animal shelter system, and the reality that adoption and fostering alone could never address the overpopulation of cats on New York’s streets. He learned how some cats would never be happy living indoors, how few kittens born outside survived to adulthood, and how important it was to stop the cycle of suffering. 

Thus, TNR. First, trap community cats and bring them to a clinic. Next, spay or neuter them, and ensure they get an identifying eartip and appropriate vaccinations. Finally, return them to their outdoor colony as long as it has a caretaker to provide reliable food and shelter. 

Junhui started by buying items off wish lists for local rescuers, then Venmo-ing funds to them to help with veterinary bills and colony supplies. Around that time, a calico cat began visiting his tiny patio, curling up for naps on his favorite outside chair. Junhui fed it each night to encourage it to come back. Before long, the calico was meowing at his door when he was late with her meal and hopping into his lap when he sat in his (her? their?) chair. He doesn't even need to trap her in the end, just opened his slider and let her walk right in. When he brought her to Renjun for a wellness check and vaccinations, Renjun told him that she was about three years old and that she probably had a home before, even though she had no microchip or collar. 

“Might have gotten lost, or just as easily been abandoned. Some people are terrible, and some people are just in terrible situations.”

“Well, she’s mine now.”

“I’m pretty sure you belong to her. Are you going to give her a name other than Cat? Please tell me you will. You can’t imagine how many cats are named Cat or Kitty.”

“I’m still deciding.”

Later, when Junhui officially decided his new housemate should be addressed as Hotpot, Renjun treated Junhui to a hotpot lunch, where he presented him with a gift bag that contained an engraved collar, tuna-flavored treats, and several catnip kickers. Hotpot liked the catnip banana the best.

Junhui had just about settled into life as an indulgent cat guardian when a chatty neighbor told him about two young cats that were living under their porch, one of whom appeared to be pregnant. He ordered his first box trap off the internet. And that’s how it all began.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Soonyoung has been rewatching _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ , so the tabby is now Toph and the lynx point is now Katara. Overnight they’ve eaten some kibble and used their litter box, though they’ve created quite a mess in the process. They’re still unsure of their new surroundings, but they’ve decided they like chicken baby food, even if they have to lick it off the tip of a scary human’s finger. That’s a very good start. Wonwoo doesn’t think this will be hard.

“How are the dummies?” Soonyoung asks, when Wonwoo finally emerges in search of coffee. 

“Way calmer than expected. Maybe they’ve had contact with other feeders.”

Soonyoung is busy rearranging the furniture in the living room to prepare for his morning classes. Before the pandemic, he taught dance in a local studio and performed at night with a small crew. Then Covid happened. The studio went out of business, half his crew moved back to their respective hometowns, and all his income dried up. There were a few panicked weeks when Soonyoung wasn’t sure how he was going to pay his rent. Fortunately, he already had a decent number of followers on Instagram and TikTok, so when he tried offering online group classes and individual coaching, he found an eager audience, especially after an IT friend loaned him better equipment and a librarian friend gave him tech training over FaceTime. Now their living room is his impromptu studio. After a month of pushing their old couch back and forth, they pooled their resources and bought a new sofa on casters that’s much easier to roll out of the way whenever Soonyoung needs more space, which is nearly every day. 

Wonwoo is a technical writer, so he was working partly from home even before the pandemic. It adds up to a lot of togetherness, now that Soonyoung is also home most of the time, but they have made it work. Wonwoo’s sit-stand desk is set up in his bedroom, and he just puts on his noise-canceling headphones when the dance music floating from the living room is too much for his concentration. He does try to remember to fill up his giant thermos of coffee before Soonyoung’s classes start each morning. Once he was caught in the background of one of Soonyoung’s classes because he was sneaking into the kitchen for a caffeine fix. It led to a lot of curious comments about his identity, and Wonwoo has no interest in being internet famous.

He calls Jun before he turns on his computer to do his actual paying job. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m worried about the littlest one. He’s not gaining as much as the others.” A yawn. “I barely know what day it is.”

“Thursday, and maybe you could let someone help?”

“It’s weird to ask anyone over right now.” 

“I’ll remind you again that Jihoon has been super careful and he’s a big softie for cats.” And for Jun.

“I can probably shift to feeding them every five hours by the weekend.”

“Junnie. It won’t help the cats if you get so tired you sleep through your alarm.” Wonwoo knows pushing more will just make Jun defensive, so he just adds, “At least promise me you’ll eat something that’s not from GrubHub? I’m pretty sure Minghao is going to try to feed you soon.”

“I will eat Mingyu’s cooking if Minghao brings it over.”

“Good.” Wonwoo has already seen Mingyu’s food prep in progress in his Instastory. “Have you thought of names yet? It’s not like you to wait this long.”

“Oh!” Jun’s voice brightens for the first time. “I thought of names last night. Maybe I was hungry again.”

Jun has a cat named Hotpot and his previous fosters have included Yuzu, Durian, Pumpkin, Muffin, Cookie, Pancake, and Mister Waffles. Food names from Junhui will never be a surprise. Wonwoo is still not sure why Mister Waffles got a title when none of the others did, but Junhui kept insisting the name wasn’t complete without it. Then again, Wonwoo and Soonyoung are two Korean Americans who have given most of their fosters Japanese names from anime, so he’s probably not really in a position to throw stones.

“Is there a theme?”

“Big blackie is Baozi, and the graybie girl is Mandu, and the sweet runt is Mochi.” 

Dumplings. Of course. Wonwoo thinks the names might better fit light-colored cats, but not his cats, not his naming rights. “Nice. Definitely eat that food Minghao brings.”

“I miss getting lunch together, Wonwoo.”

“Me too, Junnie. Me too.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Minghao calls a little after one in the afternoon. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he says when Junhui picks up.

“Did Wonwoo put you up to this?”

“I haven’t talked to Wonwoo for a few days.”

“Did Wonwoo put Mingyu up to this?”

A chuckle. “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

Mingyu and Minghao have been dating for over three years now, and they might as well already be married. Junhui has no one to blame but himself and Wonwoo, because on a fateful day in the summer of 2017 they both invited their respective childhood friends to join them for drinks at a new gastropub that Seungcheol had found. Mingyu and Minghao hit it off immediately. They moved in together after six months of dating, adopted an adorable Weimaraner puppy two months after that, and bought their first condo together just weeks before the world shut down in March. 

These days Junhui doesn’t believe there are many (or maybe any) good reasons to adopt a companion animal from breeders, but he’s not interested in judging his friends’ life choices. Not everyone has a Hotpot to show them the way, and their puppy, Percy, is impossibly sweet and much doted upon. Anyway, when Mingyu heard Junhui’s and Wonwoo’s TNR stories, he immediately began finding ways to help. His latest contribution was a dozen winter feral cat shelters, and he still has a couple spares ready to go in his shed. He’s also constantly checking up on them, especially in these pandemic days, as if he’s the older friend. Junhui knows that he sometimes brings Wonwoo coffee when he’s out trapping late at night. Minghao helps in his own way, which mostly involves supporting Mingyu and buying cat toys off Etsy. 

Minghao’s interests also include organizing Junhui’s often random life.

Junhui says, “Are you going to tell me that you’re outside with the food now?”

“Nope,” Minghao says, popping the P. “But Jihoon is about five minutes away and I told him you’d let him in the back so he can drop off the food on the patio. You should invite him to stay and eat with you. It’s not that cold today.”

“Haohao.”

“Mingyu made your favorite mandu, and he says you’re welcome.”

Jihoon shows up on time, texting when he’s at the gate. Junhui buzzes him in and goes out to meet him. By the time Junhui gets his mask and jacket and shoes on, Jihoon is already sitting down on the chair that Hotpot used to nap on before she became a permanent resident. He’s wearing joggers and a giant soft blue hoodie. The hood is pulled up over his head, leaving only his eyes visible above his black mask. 

“Yo, Moon Jun,” he says. It’s so very good to hear his voice.

“Sorry they put you up to this.”

“Oh, I needed a reason to get out of the studio for a little bit anyway.”

Jihoon has toted two large reusable shopping bags over from Minghao and Mingyu’s condo. Junhui sighs. “Did they send an entire grocery order? Do they realize that I know how to use Instacart? And can actually cook better than most of you?”

“Well, one bag is pretty light, but you know Mingyu. Cooking this for you probably made his week. You should eat right away. I think some of it is still warm.”

It’s definitely a milder day than yesterday. Minghao wasn’t lying about that. While Junhui despises being managed like a child, he has missed Jihoon’s company. “Have you eaten lunch? You could eat with me if you want. I get if you’re not okay with it. But I haven’t really gotten close to anyone in the last couple weeks, definitely not inside and not for very long outside. It should be okay.”

Jihoon waves his hand dismissively. “I probably have even less close contact with other people than you. I’m fine if you’re fine. Especially out here.”

Junhui fetches plates and utensils, and they unpack Mingyu’s feast. There’s stir-fried beef, two types of kimchi, japchae, rice with chestnuts, and yes, Junhui’s favorite pork and chives mandu. There’s also a large tub of chicken porridge, with a note instructing Junhui to put it in the fridge for tomorrow morning. Last but not least, there’s a pink carton that contains homemade, hand-decorated macarons.

Jihoon inspects the macarons before asking, “Do you think he just had this box at their condo, ready to be used?”

“Mingyu’s been cooking away his anxiety since March. Wonwoo said Soonyoung’s been trying to avoid his goodies because he doesn’t want to gain weight when he spends so much time on camera.”

“Their loss.” 

They dutifully pull their chairs further apart before taking off their masks and starting to eat. Jihoon pushes back his hood when he removes his mask, and Junhui sees he’s sporting a fresh undercut.”

“Did Mingyu cut your hair again?”

“Yeah, outside yesterday. It was fucking cold. But it was getting in my eyes too much. I felt like I was in college again.”

Junhui has a lot of pictures of sophomore year Jihoon with his badly bleached hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail. In some of them he’s also wearing a fedora. Junhui thinks the look was exceedingly cute, even if the pictures make Jihoon cringe now. 

“I heard your new track. I like it. It’s your first instrumental in a while.”

“My lyrics are trash lately, but that’s 2020 for you.”

“What does Bruno Mars think?”

Bruno Mars is Jihoon’s cat, one of Junhui’s earliest rescues. Once upon a time he was a surly gray and white tomcat with one raggedy ear who had kept starting fights at the colony cared for by their friend Vernon. (Seungkwan, Vernon’s partner, named all the cats there after his favorite singers.) Junhui had trapped him with a KFC drumstick and had expected to TNR him. But once Bruno was neutered, he lost his big tomcat cheeks and his hormonal aggression, and he ended up being a seventeen-pound lovebug. Jihoon had come over to Junhui’s condo one day to play video games, and for Bruno, it had been love at first sight. Every time Jihoon sat down, Bruno had tried to climb into his lap or lick his face. Every time Jihoon stood up, Bruno had wound around his heels or followed him to wherever he was going. The spectacle had made Junhui laugh and laugh. After this behavior continued on two subsequent visits, Jihoon had finally offered to adopt Bruno. “It’s probably the closest I’ll ever get to a love call from Bruno Mars,” he’d said, laughing. He was a huge fan of the pop star. 

“Bruno is good. He keeps breaking things, though. I didn’t know cats could be so clumsy.”

“He’s a big boy who thinks he’s a tiny kitten. It’s part of his charm.”

“He’s so sad when I lock him out of my studio but I can’t keep replacing things he sits on.” Jihoon pushes the tray of mandu closer to Jun. “You should eat these, not me. I know you’re always asking Mingyu for them. Hey, did you know that Jeonghan knows the guy who found the kittens you have now?”

Junhui sits up in surprise, nearly knocking his plate off his lap. “No? Is that how he found me?”

“Not sure about that part, but Jeonghan said they used to go to the same church in New Jersey.” Back before Jeonghan came out and left his church days behind him. “You know how Jeonghan collects dongsaengs.” Like both of them and Wonwoo for that matter. 

“I don’t know how such a big city feels so small sometimes.”

“Your Chinese friend network is just as cozy. Like when Wonwoo met that guy who ended up being Chenle’s cousin.”

Junhui hasn’t heard about that one. He’s about to ask for the details when the feeding alarm on his phone starts blaring. He turns it off and then looks at Jihoon. “Do you want to meet the Dumplings?”

Jihoon tilts his head playfully to one side. “Why do you think I agreed to schlep over all this food?”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

They put their masks back on, pick up the remnants of their meals, and head inside. Jihoon starts putting the leftovers away, familiar with where everything is kept, while Junhui gently warms up some KMR for the feeding. He tries not to think about how strange it is to have another person in his home again, after so many months of isolation, maybe especially because he used to invite friends over all the time to watch movies or play games. 

Mandu is already screaming for attention when Junhui gets to the kitten crate, so this time he feeds her first. Jihoon watches from the other side of the room as Junhui settles Mandu on the baby blanket on his lap, checks the temperature of the KMR one last time, and then offers her the bottle nipple. She knows what to expect now and latches on strongly.

“She’s a good eater.”

“I can tell. Is that formula? When can they start eating regular food?”

“In a couple weeks. Until then, it’s the bottle.”

“And how often do you have to do this?”

“Every four hours.”

Jihoon runs a hand through his hair, perhaps forgetting that it’s not long enough to get in his eyes. “When I think someone’s sleeping habits are bad, you know they’re bad.”

“It’s really not for much longer.”

Junhui can tell there’s a lot that Jihoon wants to say that he’s holding back. They met in a college—him and Jihoon and Wonwoo—three awkward kids assigned to the same hallway of their residence hall. Jun can barely remember his freshman year roommate’s face. Instead he remembers studying in the library with Wonwoo and watching too many Marvel movies with Jihoon and getting very drunk on terrible beer with both. 

(Okay, the last memory is a little blurry.)

Instead Jihoon says, “Can I feed one?”

Junhui lets Jihoon give a bottle to Baozi, who nurses even better than Mandu, while Junhui puts clean blankets and a freshly warmed heating disc in their pen. He hears Jihoon whispering to Baozi, though he can’t catch any of the words. Then Jun feeds Mochi himself before showing Jihoon how to stimulate each of the kittens to potty with a clean tissue, since young kittens usually depend on their mother for that service. 

It’s only after all that’s done that Junhui realizes he’s been set up.

“So now I can do your next feeding at … let’s see, six thirty, and you can sleep until ten.”

“No.”

“Yes. I promise I’ll wake you up if I don’t know how to do something.”

“No.”

Jihoon makes a show of looking at his fancy watch. “You could get almost eight hours of sleep if you let me do this.”

Being outmaneuvered is even worse than being managed. Still, Junhui remembers all the times friends have told him he needs to learn how to accept gifts. “How do I know you’ll wake me up at ten?”

Jihoon shrugs. “You could always set your alarm if you don’t trust me, but Bruno will need dinner at some point. C’mon, Jun, let me do this. You need a break.”

“I wish you would have just asked me,” Junhui says, letting his frustration bubble over for once. “Me, not Minghao, or Wonwoo, or whoever put you up to this. It’s weird when you all start plotting. I know I’m all over the place sometimes, but I knew what I was doing when I decided to do this.”

Now Junhui can tell that Jihoon is upset, even with a mask covering most of his face. “I’m sorry, Junnie. I’m really sorry.”

The conversation is making Junhui more tired than four days of round-the-clock feedings. “It’s okay. Just—just don’t do it again. And thank you.” 

Junhui brushes his teeth and changes into sleep clothes, thinking it would be ironic if he was too upset to sleep. That doesn’t end up being a problem. He’s out almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Renjun calls Wonwoo just as Soonyoung’s afternoon class is wrapping up. Wonwoo asks, “How’d it go?”

“The spay was fine. But your tuxie is still pretty loopy right now. The anesthesia hits them all a bit differently. We’d like to keep an eye on her for a few more hours. I don’t think you can release her tonight. 

“Ah. I have work meetings all day tomorrow. Can I pick her up in the evening?”

“Yeah, we can hold her until then. I’m on the day shift tomorrow, but the techs can discharge her without me.”

“Thanks, Renjun.” Wonwoo hears the couch in the living room rolling across the floor. 

“You’re welcome.”

Wonwoo comes out of his bedroom and finds Soonyoung sprawled face-down on the repositioned couch. “You’re getting all your sweat on the upholstery.”

“I’ll get up in a minute.”

Wonwoo figures the damage is already done so he doesn’t start a fight. “Do we have anything to eat? Can we justify takeout again?”

“Kujirai ramen? I think we have cheese and eggs.”

Neither Soonyoung nor Wonwoo are cooks, but Soonyoung has spent a lot of the pandemic watching Korean cooking videos on YouTube. That has included viral ramen recipes, and sometimes Wonwoo catches Soonyoung mimicking his favorite vlogger’s catchphrases. _More green onion, more delicious!_ It shouldn’t really be funny, but Wonwoo can’t help laughing anyway, which just encourages Soonyoung to joke around more.

(“He’s a Gemini through and through,” Jihoon told Wonwoo once, soon after Soonyoung moved in. “Just embrace the chaos. It’s way easier.”)

After dinner, Wonwoo sits in the bathroom and feeds Toph and Katara. Only Toph hisses at him, and it’s a pretty half-hearted hiss at that. Both come into the open to eat in front of him. He gently pets their heads as they chow down. They’re content to ignore him as long as food is available. 

Soonyoung pops his head in to check on them. “Looking friendly,” he comments.

“They’re not very spicy.” 

“Can we skip to the hoodie part then?”

When Wonwoo first started helping Jun with TNR, Soonyoung treated it like any of Wonwoo’s other hobbies. He asked some questions, and he occasionally watched Wonwoo in action, but mostly he minded his own business. When Wonwoo began fostering more frequently, Soonyoung became curious enough to learn the lingo and eventually some of the tricks, especially with the pandemic forcing both of them to spend more time at home. That was around the time he playfully demanded naming rights for all visiting cats and started calling the kittens betrayed by sardines “dummies.” At some point, Wonwoo showed him a video of a rescuer who had zipped an undersocialized kitten into the front of their hoodie. The idea was to accustom the kitten to human contact and handling. Soonyoung was very entertained by the idea of scheduled cuddling with grumpy kittens via loungewear, and he was constantly volunteering himself and his considerable collection of sweatshirts.

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Not yet. They’re doing great, but I don’t want to rush them. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Okeydoke. I just did laundry, so my tiger hoodie is available!”

Wonwoo reminds Soonyoung that his tiger print hoodie is a fashion abomination, and Soonyoung just shoots twin finger guns in his direction. “I know you wish you had your own!” He also insists on taking a picture of both kittens while they have food all over their faces and paws. He posts it to his Instagram to introduce them to his followers.

_Meet Toph and Katara. #messymouf #rescueisthebestbreed #adoptdontshop_

Wonwoo rolls his eyes when he sees it on his feed later, but he presses like anyway.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

“Jun? Junnie?”

The room is very dark. Junhui fumbles for his phone until he notices the light coming from his bedroom door. Jihoon is in the doorway, silhouetted by the light from the hall. He has his hood pulled back over his head and his phone is glowing in his hand. 

“It’s a little past ten. The kittens were sleeping when I checked just now.”

“Thanks,” Junhui croaks, reaching for the bottle of water that’s usually on his nightstand. 

“They all ate around six thirty. Bruno’s probably starving so I’m heading out.”

“Okay.” 

“Hey, Jun? The food was Wonwoo’s idea, and Minghao asked me to bring it because he couldn’t get out of a Zoom meeting, but the rest was me. So don’t be mad at them.”

Junhui wishes he could give Jihoon a hug. Jihoon likes to pretend that he’s not touchy, but he’s as soft as the rest of them, especially after a long night of hanging out when they’re tired and inclined to laugh at everything. Junhui misses hugs, and it’s not like Jihoon to sound this sad. “I’m not mad,” he says carefully. “I just hate all of this.”

“Yeah, I think we all do. I’ll call you tomorrow.” And then he’s raising his hand in farewell and Jun has to drag himself out of his bed for the next feeding. 

An extra cup in the kitchen sink and Jihoon’s handwriting on the notepad where Jun tracks the kittens’ weight are the only signs that someone other than him has been around. Hotpot is winding around his ankles, her loud purring an obvious demand for food. It’s month nine of the pandemic and Jun feels done. 

🐈🐈🐈🐈

There are nearly three thousand likes on Soonyoung’s Instagram post by morning, plus hundreds of comments that are mostly worth ignoring. 2020 has been a year of unexpected things, and in their circle of friends, Soonyoung’s becoming an influencer is one of the most surprising. Just a year ago most of his followers were his college friends and diehard fans of the local dance scene, and Soonyoung hadn’t figured out how to use most of the features on his accounts, let alone been verified.

Some of Soonyoung’s followers are still interested in his dancing, but Wonwoo’s pretty sure that most of them stick around for his unfiltered self. Soonyoung is a born performer, who turns into a completely different character on stage, but he also has a certain innocence that’s never changed. He wouldn’t know how to create a public persona if he tried. So he just shares what he wants to share. His love of Adidas and animal print. His many mirror selfies. His experiments with viral ramen recipes. Snippets of choreography, and when he’s feeling very bold, covers of his favorite songs.

Also, cats.

It started when Soonyoung was extra charmed by a litter that Wonwoo was fostering after some neighborhood rescuers removed them from a hoarding situation. There were two orange tabby boys and a tiny, sassy torbie sister. Soonyoung insisted on naming them Ichigo, Renji, and Rukia, taking Wonwoo back to his school days of reading manga in the aisles of the neighborhood Barnes and Noble. Something about these cats made Soonyoung go into full proud cat parent mode. He took blurry pictures of them biting each other’s butts and skittering around the living room with their floof suits on. He took less blurry pictures of them sleeping in a contented pile. He attempted to record a video of him playing with them using a feather teaser, though he mostly ended up shooting the floor and the ceiling. The _Bleach_ kittens were very charming, as kittens usually are, and the internet fell in love, too. It was the first time Wonwoo experienced being overwhelmed with adoption offers from complete strangers from across the country.

(In the end, though, the entire trio was adopted by Josh Hong, one of Soonyoung’s friends from home who had moved out to New York for grad school. Josh laughingly admitted to watching too much anime as a kid, too.)

That was in late March, when there seemed to be an ambulance in every street, and everyone was looking for something to give them hope for the future. Wonwoo had participated in TNR efforts before the pandemic, mostly when Jun had overcommitted himself, but he joined a lot more during lockdown, as shelters and animal hospitals closed or scaled back and rescuers began to panic at the prospect of the worst kitten season in years. Wonwoo went from fostering rescues maybe once a month or every other month to fostering pretty much nonstop. Sometimes the fosters even overlapped, with some in their bathroom and some in his bedroom and maybe even some in a pen in the corner of their living room. 

They were hosting Kakashi, a friendly adult who had lost one eye to a bad infection, when Soonyoung finally asked Wonwoo, “Have you ever thought about just keeping one of the cats? You really seem to like having them around.”

“I had a cat before you moved in,” Wonwoo said. “His name was Howl. He got cancer. In the end it was time to put him to sleep.”

He doesn’t want to talk about how his ex barely tolerated Howl and implied it was stupid for Wonwoo to spend so much money on veterinary bills. Sometimes Wonwoo thinks he waited too long to make the right decision for Howl at the end, simply because of his ex’s snide remarks. That thought always makes him sad, because it would mean Howl suffered longer than necessary. So instead Wonwoo shows Soonyoung some pictures on his phone and tells him how Howl used to knock things off tables and watch them fall to the ground, just to be sure that gravity was still working. “He was a bit of a jerk,” Wonwoo says, “and he was the best cat.”

“It sounds like you still miss him.”

“All the damn time. I’m not ready to adopt another cat for good right now. Someday, but not yet.”

When Wonwoo enters the bathroom with the kittens’ breakfast, Katara is perched on top of the closed toilet seat, and Toph is watching him silently from her spot between the base of the pedestal sink and the bathtub. Katara meows hopefully as he closes the door gently behind him.

Wonwoo has convinced far more skeptical cats that the VIP life indoors is a good thing. This is progress, especially their definite interest in the plate of food in his hand. He sits down on the bathmat, spreads an old towel across his thighs, and then gently picks up Katara and sets her down in his lap. He offers her the food. She looks at the food, and then at the ground, and then at food again. He slides the plate under her nose and she’s hooked. She begins to eat. Toph watches this unfold and takes a few steps out of her spot to sniff hopefully on his direction. 

“There’s plenty for you, too.”

He waits until she’s placed a cautious paw on his foot to pick her up as well, placing her next to her sister. He can tell she doesn’t enjoy the handling, but stuffing her face is a higher priority. He pets them gently and offers them gentle praise as they eat, letting them get used to his touch and his voice.

The kittens have finished eating and are enduring some cuddling on his lap when Soonyoung pops his head in, wearing his second coziest sweatshirt and a hopeful look. “Maybe today?”

Wonwoo lets him take Katara, who barely struggles when he cuddles her against his chest, zipping his sweatshirt up around her. 

“What a princess. Look at those blue eyes.” He boops her nose. “Hi there.”

Wonwoo has wrapped Toph in a towel to keep her from squirming away. He’s rewarding her with a special treat, a tube of tuna paste that he offers to her one dollop at a time. She keeps craning her neck to get more. “That one’s a softie. This one is a bit more opinionated.”

Soonyoung pokes him with a slippered foot. “Which means you like her more.”

“I don’t play favorites,” Wonwoo lies, “but she is pretty cute.”

“You probably haven’t checked your messages while you’ve been in here, but Mingyu’s blowing up our phones with Thanksgiving plans.” 

In a normal year, they’d all squeeze around Mingyu and Minghao’s table and eat an enormous meal. Most of them were quite useless in the kitchen, so they’d either assist under close supervision or show up with alcohol. “What does he want us to do?”

“He wants to deliver food to all of us in the afternoon and drink together on Zoom at night. I think Minghao finally talked him out of trying to host something outside. There’s a good chance of rain.”

“We should do something for them, too. What are you up to today?”

“Meeting Chan for a run and maybe doing a live later. Jihoon sent me a new track, and I have some ideas for choreo. What about you?”

“Solid Zoom meetings from ten to four, most of which I probably don’t need to be in, but the bosses insist on the entire team showing up for these weekly project check ins. Ugh. After that, I have to pick up the mom cat.”

“Are you bringing her back?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “We’re pretty sure she’s feral. There’s a caretaker on the block. A nice lady. She’s the one who reached out to Jun. It’s the best we can do for now.”

Soonyoung drops a kiss on Katara’s head. “At least these two are warm and dry inside.” And then his face lights up and he whispers, like it’s a secret, “I think she’s purring.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Junhui is eating the last of his leftovers when he gets a FaceTime call from Jeonghan. It still surprises him to see Jeonghan with black hair rather than brown, since he hasn’t bothered to dye it since the pandemic began. It’s also longer than it’s been in years. “Junnie! I heard from my dongsaeng that you have new kittens!”

“Jihoon told me you knew the teacher.”

“We went to the same church as kids. Can I see them?”

Junhui flips his camera around and walks over to the crate where the Dumplings are exploring. He names them each for Jeonghan. “Mochi is the small black one in the bed. Mandu is the gray one, and Baozi is the bigger black one crawling off to the side. They’re crawling and walking around a lot more now. I think they’re feeling better.”

“Are they okay?”

“They’re still a little underweight, but getting back on track. I was worried about the runt but he’s gained the most in the last twenty-four hours. They’re not in the clear yet. I like to give the surprises two weeks to finish showing up.” Most of Junhui’s fosters have been a bit older, but he’s lost count of the times that a rescued cat or kitten has suddenly crashed with a bad upper respiratory infection or diarrhea after a week of seeming fine in his house.

“That makes sense. Did you see Mingyu’s messages?”

“About Thanksgiving? Yeah.”

“He won’t let us help buy the groceries, but we’re going to send them a big case of fancy wine. You can Venmo me if you want to chip in.”

“I will. How are you and hyung?”

“We’re good, we’re good. Cheol’s walking the dogs, and I’m taking the day off from work since I have to use the vacation time before the end of the year.” And then Jeonghan’s grin turns a little sly and he says, “You should invite Jihoonie over to yours for Thanksgiving. You both live alone and work from home, it should be okay.”

Junhui has been having variations on this conversation with Jeonghan for five years. “Are you telling me to form a quarantine pod or ask him on a date, hyung?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question?”

Jeonghan believes that Junhui is a little in love with Jihoon. Jeonghan is right. He’s been right since they were all in college, a little scared and a little exhilarated by life and love. Jun was a sophomore when he realized that hanging out with Jihoon felt different from hanging out with any of their other friends. Somehow, though, the timing has never been right. Sometimes one of them was dating other people. Other times Jihoon has been so focused on his music that he refused to date at all. And at the end of the day, Junhui doesn’t want to jeopardize his privilege of being a friend that Jihoon always makes time for. So he lets their friendship coast along on the accumulated comfort of years upon years.

Jeonghan thinks this is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard, and every so often, he encourages Junhui to do something about it. For the most part, he keeps his meddling to the phone. Jeonghan loves teasing his dongsaengs, but he would never be intentionally cruel.

“He’s not going to break your heart, you know,” Jeonghan finally says, when Jun doesn’t answer. “I know Jihoon as well as I know you.”

Jun shakes his head. “He wouldn’t mean to, but he could.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

It’s another evening in the parking lot of the animal hospital, but today is warm, even warmer then the day before. Wonwoo calls to let them know that he’s arrived, and a flustered receptionist tells him that it might be a while, thanks to emergencies and shift changes. 

“I’ll wait,” Wonwoo tells her. “There’s no rush. Just call when you’re bringing her out.”

An Instagram notification on his phone informs him that _kwonhoshidance_ is live. Wonwoo fumbles on his earbuds and joins the stream, where he’s greeted by the familiar scene of his own living room. Hoshi is Soonyoung’s stage name. Wonwoo remembers trying not to laugh the first time Soonyoung explained that it was short for tiger’s gaze in Korean, not the Japanese word for star. On screen, Soonyoung is letting the Avatar cats explore their sofa while he talks to his followers.

“Am I working on anything new? Yes! My friend Woozi just posted a new track to his Soundcloud, you should check it out. Chan and I are working on it together. We might even try to film something together, outside with masks on, of course.”

Katara climbs from the back of the sofa onto Hoshi’s shoulder. Wonwoo smirks. Definitely not a feral cat. 

“Did I name the cats? You betcha.” Soonyoung winks at the camera. “Yes, I know _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ is not an anime. I have plenty of more anime names ready, you just wait and see. But these friends were definitely a Toph and Katara.” A pause. “No ship wars in the comments, please. Yeah, I am going to watch the last season of _Attack on Titan,_ but none of those names seem right for a wee kitten.”

There’s a flurry of comments. Lots of cat and heart emojis, suggested cat names, praise for Woozi, one diehard Zutara fan, the occasional snarky comment from one of their friends. One comment catches Wonwoo’s eye as it scrolls up.

_When are you moving back to LA???_

It’s not a username that Wonwoo recognizes, and newer comments quickly push it offscreen. Soonyoung is busy talking about a performance he saw online earlier in the week, promising to share the link later. 

“When am I offering more classes? Probably in January. My schedule is pretty full right now but I’m thinking of doing a winter group series. I haven’t figured out the details yet. What kind of class would you want me to do?”

_LA misses you hosh!_

Wonwoo tries to tap on the person’s profile, but he’s interrupted by an incoming call from the clinic. He exits the live and taps the green call button. “This is Wonwoo.”

“The tech is on their way out with your tuxie. Your file says you already settled the bill so you’re all set.”

“Thanks.”

The carrier is covered with a drop cloth, but Wonwoo can hear growling from inside when the tech hands it over. “She didn’t like us very much,” the tech says. “But she’s spayed and vaccinated and all that good stuff.”

“I try not to take it personally.” When he’s loaded the carrier into his car, he sneaks a look under the cover, where he sees the mom cat backed into the furthest corner. Her green eyes are dilated with fear, and he can see her freshly tipped ear. “Sorry, mama,” he whispers. “Just a little longer and then you don’t have to see me again.”

She hisses and slaps the carrier door with a lightning fast paw, and Wonwoo drops the cover back down. 

The colony caretaker is waiting when Wonwoo finally gets back to the trapping site. She’s an older lady who rents a first floor unit in the small apartment building there. “I started feeding a couple stray cats because they were hungry, and then more of them kept showing up,” she tells him. “We’ve gotten them all fixed over the last couple years, but this one was a new face. I’d never seen the kittens. I was so surprised when Jun told me about them. Wonder where she was keeping them?”

“We might never know. We’ll find good homes for her kittens,” Wonwoo assures her. “And if she ever changes her mind about being friendly, we can find a home for her, too.”

The carrier rattles under its cover.

Wonwoo gently places the carrier on the ground and partly pulls off the cover so the mama cat can see they’re back in her territory. Then he opens the door.

Feral cats all react a little differently to being returned. Some are so frightened by the whole experience that it takes them a moment to realize that their freedom is real. Others are off in a heartbeat, sometimes with a parting hiss.

Toph and Katara’s mom falls into the second category. She’s nudging the door open before Wonwoo has pulled his hand away. Then she’s streaking across the little parking lot, rocketing up over a fence, and gone into the night.

“I hope she’ll come back for dinner tomorrow,” says the caretaker. “What a lovely tail!”

“I think she’ll be back. I have a couple of cases of cat food to give you, if you want them. Just to help a bit. How many cats do you usually see?”

“It was five this summer, but we’ve only seen two lately. Three if she comes back.”

He ends up dropping the cases of food on her doorstep. They part, like most folks these days do, with a wave from six feet away. 

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Soonyoung isn’t home when Wonwoo gets back. There’s a note indicating that the kittens have gotten their dinner, so really, all Wonwoo needs to do is arrange for his own. He’s chewing on a rather depressing tuna sandwich when he hears Soonyoung’s keys in the door.

“Oh, you’re already eating.” Soonyoung holds up a paper bag. “I got you a burrito. Chan and I went to that taqueria near his apartment, the one that you like.”

Wonwoo makes grabby hands in the direction of the bag, and Soonyoung laughs, his eyes nearly disappearing above his mask. He hands over the food with a flourish and then heads to his bedroom. 

When Soonyoung comes back, he’s bare faced, wearing flannel pajama pants and a clean but shabby t-shirt from some long ago dance camp. Wonwoo is halfway done with the burrito, which is about a million times better than his sad sandwich. “How was the mama cat?”

“Thrilled to be done with us. Were you hanging out with Chan all afternoon?”

“Nah. We just agreed to get dinner tonight when we went for our run this morning. We ate in that little pocket park by the shop. We wanted to bounce around choreo ideas, and that’s always easier in person.”

“Oh, I saw a bit of your live when I was waiting at the vet,” Wonwoo says. “Are you going to do something for Jihoon’s track together?”

“Yeah, Chan has a lot of good ideas.” Soonyoung looks a little guilty and adds, “Hey, I know we hadn’t talked about bringing the kittens out, but they were bouncing around so much I thought I’d let them explore.”

“It’s okay. They didn’t look uncomfortable. Thanks for feeding them, too.”

Soonyoung’s finger guns make their usual appearance. “It was easy!”

Later that evening, when Soonyoung’s disappeared into this room to watch something on his laptop, Wonwoo sits in the bathroom with the rather sleepy kittens and thinks about how much he’s gotten used to having Soonyoung around. It’s been a long time since Wonwoo thought of Soonyoung mostly as Jihoon’s friend. It’s no longer strange for Soonyoung to bring Wonwoo dinner, or for Wonwoo to tell Soonyoung about his day. With a sinking heart, Wonwoo realizes that he won’t just be losing a roommate who pays half the rent if Soonyoung has decided to move back to LA.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Junhui is letting the Dumplings roll around on his bed when Wonwoo calls him on Saturday afternoon. “Mochi is eating like a champ now,” he tells Wonwoo proudly. “He’s even starting to catch up to Mandu’s weight.”

“That’s great, Junnie,” Wonwoo says, but the brightness that’s usually in his voice when they’re talking about cats is missing.

Junhui has been friends with Wonwoo for nearly a decade now, so he knows that asking directly about Wonwoo’s feelings will just make him clam up. He’ll say something when he’s ready to say something, and given the call, he probably does want to talk about whatever’s troubling him. So Junhui just says, “How are Katara and Toph?” He lets Wonwoo talk about the kittens’ socialization progress and his conversation with the mom cat’s feeder. They discuss Mingyu’s extravagant Zoom Thanksgiving cooking plans. He asks about Wonwoo’s job and listens sympathetically as Wonwoo vents about the number of pointless meetings. 

Eventually, Wonwoo sighs, and Junhui thinks to himself, ah, this is it. “Hey, Junnie. Has Soonyoung said anything to you about moving back to LA?”

That’s an unexpected turn. “No,” says Junhui slowly. “Has he said something to you? Why do you ask?”

Wonwoo tells him about the comments on Soonyoung’s livestream.

“It’s probably nothing,” Junhui says. “It’s probably just a LA fan’s wishful thinking. It’s not a secret that he grew up there.”

“But what if it’s more than that?”

“He wouldn’t tell me before you. And really, if he was thinking of it, don’t you think he’d tell Jihoon first?”

Soonyoung and Jihoon had grown up together in LA. Jihoon had moved to New York first for college and then decided to stick around after graduation. A couple years after they graduated, though, Soonyoung was offered a part in a New York show, and he ended up making enough friends and connections that he stuck around after it wrapped. After hearing about him for years, Junhui and Wonwoo had met him for the first time soon after he arrived in town, when he was still crashing on Jihoon’s couch and living out of a suitcase.

“He’ll just tell me to talk to Soonyoung,” Wonwoo complains.

“Hey, Soonyoung’s a decent guy. He won’t leave you hanging with the lease if he decides to move home. Anyway, if he missed LA that much, don’t you think he would have gone home in the spring when his studio closed?” 

Wonwoo is silent. Junhui picks up Baozi, who is wandering a little too close to the edge of the bed, and holds him against his chest. He is the biggest of the trio, but he’s still just a single warm handful of fluff. He purrs as Junhui gently strokes the top of his head. 

“It’s not the rent that’s bothering you, is it?”

“It’s not the rent.”

Junhui has noticed how close Soonyoung and Wonwoo have become over the past few months. Before the pandemic, their lives had been much more separate. Soonyoung had rarely been home, busy with performances and his circle of dance and music friends. When Soonyoung had hung out with their friends, it had mostly been as Jihoon’s childhood buddy rather than Wonwoo’s roommate. Now when they gather on Zoom, Soonyoung feels like Wonwoo’s plus one. They usually spend most of those hangouts hanging off each other’s shoulders as they cackle at their own terrible jokes.

“I really think it might be nothing. If it’s going to bother you, though you should just ask him.” Junhui adds, a little daringly, “But maybe think about why it bothers you?”

Wonwoo makes a frustrated noise. “The problem is that I know, Junnie.” 

They say goodbye, and Junhui looks at the kitten on his chest and the two attempting to climb on his leg. “Feelings sure are hard, babies.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

On Sunday night, Wonwoo hears one of the kittens sneeze. The next morning, he enters the bathroom with their breakfast and finds Katara sitting on the edge of the sink, meowing her heart out for food. There’s no sign of Toph. He’s certain she hasn’t gotten loose, and there aren’t many places for her to hide. It only takes a minute for him to find her huddled on the edge of the tub, hidden between the shower curtain and the liner. There is visible discharge at the corner of her eyes, and she sneezes again when he scoops her up.

Soonyoung is eating a bagel at the kitchen table when Wonwoo emerges from the bathroom with Toph cradled against his chest. Wonwoo’s worry must show on his face. “Is something wrong?”

“Looks like a kitten cold. I want to separate them so hopefully Katara doesn’t catch it too. I’m going to set her up in my bedroom and call Renjun.”

The crate in Wonwoo’s room is smaller than he likes for a pair of older kittens who need room to play, but it’s a good spot for a single cat that needs isolation and supportive care. It’s right next to the radiator, so it stays warm, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out how to set it up while holding Toph when he realizes that Soonyoung’s followed him in. “I think you’ll need both hands,” he says. “I can take her for a bit. Should I try to feed her?”

“That would be great,” Wonwoo says, handing over the trembling kitten. She doesn’t struggle as she often does when they handle her, just does her best to curl into a tighter ball. Soonyoung disappears with Toph while Wonwoo digs through the storage box under his bed for all the things he’ll need. A covered bed, a heating disc, a shallow litter box, pee pads, soft blankets, food and water dishes. An old beach towel to drape over half the crate so a scared kitten who was on the streets a few days ago doesn’t feel too exposed.

Renjun isn’t in yet when Wonwoo calls, but he calls back as Wonwoo is arranging the last items in Toph’s crate. “Sure sounds like a URI. I can write up a prescription for Clavamox and antibiotic eyedrops. Is she eating?”

“We’re trying to get her to eat right now.”

“If she’s not interested, try warming her food up with a little hot water. You can also add something really stinky, like the juice from canned tuna. She might not be able to smell if she’s congested.”

“Got it.”

“The meds will be ready whenever you get here. If she stops eating entirely, though, don’t wait and bring her in through urgent care.”

“Thanks, Renjun.”

Wonwoo is relieved to see Toph eating half-heartedly on Soonyoung’s lap on the couch when he gets off the phone with Renjun. “Everything’s set up for when she’s done. I’m going to go pick up her medicines. I’ll be back soon.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

When Wonwoo gets back, Toph is hunkered down in her crate and Soonyoung is prepping for his first class. The couch has already been pushed up against the wall, and Soonyoung is carefully attaching his camera to its tripod. “I made some more coffee if you want some before I start.”

Wonwoo realizes that he didn’t actually eat his own breakfast before he rushed out this morning. He fills up his thermos and grabs a banana from the bunch on the counter before he retreats to his own bedroom. He’s conscious of the fact that he still hasn’t asked Soonyoung about LA, and the unasked question sits in his stomach like a stone.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Junhui’s phone pings with a new message, and he opens it up to see a picture of Toph the kitten sleeping in a bed shaped like a giant strawberry. He understands why Wonwoo is panicking, but he also knows that URIs are depressingly common in rescued cats. She will probably be fine. He sends back a supportive message and hopes for the best.

The Dumplings are now eating every five hours, which has made Jun’s schedule a little more bearable. He’s also moved their crate inside a larger pen that gives them more space to explore. They’re spending more time awake between meals, and it’s not uncommon for him to find Baozi exploring the perimeter of the pen, perhaps planning a future escape. Mandu likes to roll around on her back, while Mochi mostly stares blankly into space. They’re reaching the age where they’re really beginning to look like tiny cats, even if they’re still a week or more away from weaning.

He’s been so wrapped up with the bottle babies that he’s ignored his work for the last week. It’s one of the luxuries of being a consultant between gigs. His next big project kicks off after Thanksgiving, so he’s just been noodling at some personal projects when he hasn’t been napping. He’s making a new pot of tea when his phone rings with a call from Jihoon.

“How are the kittens? You haven’t posted pics of them in two days.”

Junhui happily rambles about their latest antics for a few minutes, while Jihoon makes appropriately interested noises. 

“Can I come over to see them? I promise I won’t scam you into letting me help this time, though I’d be happy to if you let me.”

Junhui tells Jihoon he’s welcome to come over. When Jihoon arrives, he discovers that Junhui hasn’t actually left his condo for a week, and he insists that Junhui accompany him on a walk.

Junhui looks at the dark clouds and falling rain. “It’s wet!”

“Bring an umbrella!”

They end up looping through the neighborhood, past the little bodegas whose windows offer a warm glow on the gray day and past the dark restaurants locked up for good behind their security grilles. Jihoon insists on buying freshly-made donuts at the window of a shop they used to visit often before the pandemic. They find an awning to huddle under so they can eat the donuts while they’re still warm, then pull their masks back up and head back to Junhui’s place.

It’s good to walk, and it’s good to breathe fresh air, even if Junhui’s jeans are now soaked from the knees down. When they’re back and Jihoon is sitting on the carpet of Junhui’s office with all three kittens in his lap, Junhui finds the courage to say, “Do you want to eat here on Thanksgiving? I mean, you’ve already been over twice now, so probably not much more harm we could do?”

Jihoon looks up from scratching Mandu’s belly. “You’ve been listening to Jeonghan, haven’t you? He keeps telling me we should be a pod.”

“I hate to admit it, but he is usually right about this sort of thing.”

Jihoon wrinkles his nose, annoyed. “That’s true.”

“It also means Mingyu and Minghao can do one less drop off,” Junhui says, as if his invitation has nothing to do with wanting Jihoon’s company. “I know there’s a risk, but we’ve both been so careful. I don’t think it’s selfish of us to want one person we can see inside this winter.”

“Does being part of your pod come with standing kitten visitation rights? Because I’ve been getting sort of jealous of Soonyoung naming all of Wonwoo’s rescues.”

“Sure,” Junhui says. “We could negotiate the names too.” 

Jihoon probably has even more anime-inspired names lined up than Soonyoung. (They watched all those shows together, back when they were in middle school.) He tosses around increasingly ridiculous ones until they’re both crying with laughter.

“Char! You have to name a cat Char! I insist!”

Junhui isn’t like Jeonghan or Hao: he gives his friends plenty of room to live their own lives. He managed to be polite to Wonwoo’s self-absorbed ex for years—good riddance to that waste of space—and he actually genuinely enjoyed hanging out with Jihoon’s last semi-serious boyfriend. Jihoon has always dated decent people, which makes things both better and worse. He has a pretty strict “no meddling” rule. But just this once, he’s curious enough to say, “Wonwoo has somehow gotten the idea that Soonyoung is thinking of moving back to LA.”

Jihoon is immediately serious. “Those two should really talk to each other instead of talking to us.” And when Jun raises his eyebrows in a question, Jihoon adds firmly, “Not my story to tell.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

With Toph quarantined in Wonwoo’s room, they decide to free Katara from the bathroom. She’s too lonely by herself. She’s also adjusted quickly to indoor life, and the rest of the apartment offers so much more environmental enrichment for a lively kitten, especially the big cat tree in front of the windows. They leave the bathroom door open and let her emerge at her own pace, step by careful step. At first she’s tentative. Eventually Soonyoung uses a feather teaser to lead her in joyous circuits of the living room—from couch to chair to cat tree to book shelves and back to the couch—until she flops on the carpet for a break. 

Like most colorpoint cats, her ears and tail are dark, but her paws are unexpectedly white, perhaps a trait she inherited from her tuxedo mother. Her eyes are very blue, and her cream coat has the faintest taupe stripes. Soonyoung’s Instagram followers have decided she is a mini snow leopard.

Toph is decidedly not a fan of her new crate in Wonwoo’s room, but her illness has drained away most of her fight. Wonwoo doesn’t even need to wrap her in a towel to administer her oral medications and antibiotic eyedrops. When he’s done, she immediately slinks back to her crate to hide in her strawberry bed.

She won’t come out to eat, but she does lick some food off a spoon when Wonwoo puts it under her nose. He manages to get about a third of her meal into her this way, until she finally turns her back to him, clearly done with him for the night. 

When Wonwoo emerges from his room with Toph’s dishes, Soonyoung asks, “How’s the dummy?”

“Feeling poorly. She didn’t eat very much, but we’ll try again in a couple hours.” He scrapes the rejected food into the disposal and washes the plate. He tries to think of what they have in the apartment that might be palatable to an ailing cat. Canned tuna, or turkey baby food. Maybe the trusty sardines.

“Let me know if I can help with anything. I canceled my classes for the rest of the week because of Thanksgiving, so I’m pretty free.” 

“Are you watching something tonight?”

“I hadn’t decided yet. We do still have the last couple episodes of _Stranger 2_ left if you’re up for it.”

A twisty but deliberately paced crime procedural is probably not the best show for a worried cat rescuer. Wonwoo falls asleep thirty minutes in. When he wakes up, he discovers that he’s been snoozing on Soonyoung’s shoulder and that Katara is zipped up into Soonyoung’s hoodie again. Wonwoo can hear her purring when the characters on the screen are silent.

“How much did I miss?”

Soonyoung’s shoulders shake with laughter. “Almost everything. Isn’t that right, Katara?”

“She really likes you.” Wonwoo’s become familiar with it by now, the way that some cats just seem to prefer certain people. He feels a little too much kinship with Katara right now, who looks positively smug snuggled up under Soonyoung’s chin.

“Must be my magnetic personality.”

Wonwoo snorts. “Maybe, or it’s all those churu treat tubes.” He reluctantly pulls himself away from Soonyoung’s warmth, a little embarrassed that he got so close in the first place. “I’m going to try to convince Toph to eat a bit more, and then head to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Toph eats a little turkey baby food out of his hand, though she’s still a far cry from the kitten who dived into her food dish on her first morning with her mouth and both front paws. When Wonwoo comes back to the kitchen to wash his hands and her dishes, he finds the living room empty and dark, though there’s a line of light underneath Soonyoung’s bedroom door. Back in his own bedroom, he skims through the comments to Soonyoung’s last Instagram post and YouTube videos to see if anyone else has mentioned LA. He finds nothing. It doesn’t make him feel any better.

Toph sneezes in her crate. Wonwoo turns off his bedside light and tries not to worry.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

There’s an alarming message from Wonwoo on Junhui’s phone when the feeding alarm wakes him up at eight. 

_Taking Toph into urgent care. She’s stopped eating._

Junhui calls him back immediately. “What does Renjun think?”

“I’m still waiting in the parking lot.” There’s a bit of static, and then he hears a voice in the background say “Good morning, Jun!”

“Is that Soonyoung?”

“Yeah, he drove us.”

“Did she eat yesterday?”

“A little. Her eyes look a lot worse today, and she’s turned up her nose at everything I tried.” Wonwoo sounds exhausted. 

“You know how these colds go. Sometimes it gets worse before it gets better. And Renjun’s team will take good care of her.”

“I know that. I should get off the line, though. My phone is dying, and they’re going to call my number.”

“Let me know what you find out. I’m sorry, Wonwoo.” 

He feeds the Dumplings and is delighted to see that one of them is a genius who managed to pee right next to the starter litter box he optimistically placed in their pen yesterday. He puts down a fresh pee pad and tells them, “I’m glad you’re interested in doing this for yourself! Just a little more to the left next time, okay?” 

His Instagram DMs are filled with asks from complete strangers. _Can you trap this cat that’s hanging out in my yard? I can’t keep my cat, can you take her? There are kittens living in the junk lot next door._ Just so many people looking for someone else to solve their problems. Even if he didn’t have bottle babies, he could probably only help one or two of these folks. The hard reality is that he also has requests for help from people he knows—fellow rescuers, colony caretakers, real-life friends—and he can’t even say yes to all of those.

He tells one rescuer friend he can’t take on a new trapping project this week, but maybe next week or the week after. He arranges to lend his drop trap to another who is dealing with an especially messy situation. He sends a picture of the thriving Dumplings to their finder Dokyeom. And he calls Vernon, who reports a new face has shown up at the colony he feeds.

“Vernonie!”

“Hey, Jun. Your new kittens are awfully cute.”

“They’re growing really fast now. What’s this about a new cat at your site?”

“Yeah, Seungkwan and I think it was dumped. An adult, maybe a senior. No collar, no eartip, doesn’t look like it knows how to take care of itself outside. Do you know anyone who could foster? I don’t think we’ll even need a trap to get it.”

“I can think of a few people.” He runs through his mental list of friends who have a spare room or bathroom where they can put a friendly cat. “I could probably squeeze it in here for a bit, too.” Hotpot would not be thrilled to be locked out of another room for a couple weeks, but it wouldn’t be the first time. 

“We’re going to try to catch it tonight. I’ll let you know how it goes. He can have our bathroom for a couple days, even if we can’t keep him there for long. Oh, I almost forgot. My sister has a work friend who wants to adopt kittens. We know Shannon—she’s not a flake, I promise. If you haven’t found anyone for your kittens, maybe she’d be okay? She knows she’d have to take at least two.”

“I haven’t found anyone for the kittens. They won’t be ready to go until closer to Christmas, but we can talk then.”

There’s a voice in the background, and then Vernon says, “Seungkwan wants to know how Bruno Mars is doing.”

“Jihoon says he keeps breaking things. Does Seungkwan have a name picked out for your new friend?”

He hears Vernon repeat the question to Seungkwan, and there’s a bit of a scuffle, and then he can tell the call has been put on speaker. “I have _many_ names ready,” Seungkwan says for himself, “but I have to spend a little more time getting to know the cat to know if any of them are the _right_ one.”

“Good luck getting him or her tonight then.”

“Oh, we won’t need luck,” says Seungkwan. “Consider it done.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

It’s almost noon when Renjun calls back. Soonyoung has to shake Wonwoo awake in the passenger seat to take the call. He nearly drops his phone as he fumbles to bring it up to his ear.

“Wonwoo?”

“How is she?” 

“Hanging in there. We’re giving her some fluids to make sure she doesn’t get too dehydrated, and we’re going to see if a nebulizer will help clear up some of her congestion. That’s probably why she doesn’t want to eat. It’s probably best that we keep her here overnight. You gave her the Clavamox this morning?”

“Best I could. Not all of it got in her mouth.” Some of it definitely ended up on Wonwoo’s shirt. 

“That’s good. I think we might start seeing it help soon. Don’t worry too much. Call us in the morning and we’ll let you know if she can go home.”

“Okay. Thanks, Renjun. We always seem to be bothering you for favors.”

Renjun chuckles. “Tell Jun he owes me more hotpot when this is all done. Hey, didn’t this one have a littermate?”

“Yes, the lynx point. She seems just fine. We separated them yesterday and disinfected everything.”

“That was smart. Keep an eye on her.”

Wonwoo is grateful that Soonyoung drove when they get home and only find a single cramped parking spot on their block. It takes Soonyoung three attempts to get the car in, and it still involves a love tap on the bumper of the Prius in front of them. Wonwoo knows he could have never managed it in his current state of distraction. 

When they open the apartment door, the first thing they see is Katara’s head popping out of the den on the second tier of the cat tree. She yawns, then carefully makes her way down to the ground and heads straight for Soonyoung. He scoops her up even though his mask is still dangling from one ear. 

“Hey, sweetie. Did you have a good morning?”

She digs her claws into his jacket until she’s climbing onto his shoulder and sniffing at his hair. “Mrrow,” she announces. 

Wonwoo smiles tiredly and reaches out a finger to boop her nose. Soonyoung catches his wrist before he can pull his hand away. 

“You look like you’re going to crash. Can you take the afternoon off?”

“Already did. Emailed my boss from the car that I needed a personal day.”

“Well, I got this kitten covered.” He lets go of Wonwoo’s arm and Wonwoo misses the contact immediately. “Get some rest.”

“Thanks, Soonyoung. And thanks for coming with us this morning. It would have been tough to wait by myself this time.”

“Any time. I mean it.”

In his bedroom, Wonwoo looks at the empty crate that needs to be disinfected and decides it can wait. He crawls under his covers and remembers how Howl used to insist on sleeping in the crook of his left arm. Wonwoo doesn’t miss his terrible ex the way he misses Howl, but he misses holding someone and being held. He’s let himself lean on Soonyoung too much these last few months, literally and figuratively. How selfish it is for him to want Soonyoung to stay because he’ll feel his absence so intensely. If Soonyoung wants to move home, it’s not for Wonwoo to stop him.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, but it comes eventually. 

🐈🐈🐈🐈

The next day Renjun calls and says Wonwoo can bring Toph home. “We gave her fluids, and she ate a little for us, so she might be turning the corner on that URI. We’re also going to prescribe an appetite stimulant. It’s transdermal, you just need to rub it on her ear. If she still won’t eat, you should try to syringe feed her. Have you done that before?”

Wonwoo has not, so Renjun talks him through the process. “The biggest thing is making sure the food doesn’t go down her airway. Just a little bit at a time. I’ll email you a link to a video that shows you all the steps. I’ll send you home with what you need.”

Soonyoung has been out all afternoon, so Wonwoo heads out to do the pickup alone. He wishes he wasn’t so familiar with this short drive and the wait in the parking lot. After he’s paid his bill over the phone, the tech comes out with the carrier. Toph is curled up in one corner, looking very ruffled.

Soonyoung still isn’t home when Wonwoo gets back. Katara is very interested in his return and Toph’s carrier. She trots at his heel, meowing at her sister, and she is decidedly unhappy when he shuts her out of his bedroom. The door rattles behind him, and he turns to see a paw sliding through the gap between the door and the floor. Wonwoo ignores her for the time beeing and gently sets Toph’s carrier on the floor. He opens the door so she can come out when she’s ready. She decides to dash under Wonwoo’s cluttered bed and wedges herself into the tiny gap between a storage bin and a suitcase. All he can see is the gleam of her eyes.

Dragging her out will only make her more nervous of humans and their hands, and she’s already had a couple of trying days. Wonwoo lies down on his bed to wait her out. He ends up falling asleep. When he wakes, the room is dark and he switches on his bedside lamp as he sits up. He discovers that Toph is sitting on the foot of his bed and watching him carefully.

“Hi, baby,” he says, in his gentlest rumble. He moves very slowly as he gets up, doing his best not to startle her. “Maybe you’re hungry? I’ll go get you something.”

The living room is also dark and quiet, and Katara rubs hopefully against his legs as he goes into the kitchen. The microwave clock tells him it’s nearly seven. He smushes half a can of kitten food into her dish and sits and talks to her while she eats. Then he mixes the other half of the can with a little warm water in a second dish and takes it back to his bedroom. Toph is no longer sitting on his bed. He places the dish on the ground next to him and he waits.

It takes her ten minutes to poke her head out from under the bed, and another five to cross the last foot of open floor to the plate. But when she does, she starts to lick the contents without any further encouragement from Wonwoo. A little of the day’s tension drains out of his shoulders. “You’re such a brave girl,” he tells her, petting the top of her head with his index finger. “You’re going to be okay, alright?”

When she’s done eating, he holds her against his chest until she nods off. He’s trying his best not to wake her up when he gets a notification on his phone. _kwonhoshidance is live._

Soonyoung is dancing under the lights of a basketball court to Jihoon’s new track. Wonwoo doesn’t know much about dance, but he does know that even when Soonyoung’s part of a group, everyone watches him anyway. Filmed like this, alone, nearly silhouetted by the harsh lights, he is like something out of a movie. It seems like he and Chan haven’t gotten very far in developing their choreography, because his steps cut off suddenly, and there’s a burst of chatter and laughter. Woowoo recognizes one of the laughs as Chan’s. He’s probably the cameraman.

There are a lot of excited comments, and even a couple mentions of the cats, but only one catches Wonwoo’s eye again.

_We’re waiting for you in LA!_

None of the other commenters remark on it. Soonyoung certainly doesn’t see it as he’s counting through steps with Chan. Wonwoo closes out the app. He knows he’s not going to find the answers to his questions there.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Junhui is sure there are some conclusions to be drawn about immigrant experiences and assimilation from the wildly different histories that his mostly Chinese and Korean friends have with Thanksgiving as a holiday. Some of his friends’ families, like his, barely celebrated it. Others had put a distinctly Asian spin on it. Jihoon once told Jun that his extended family in LA always served kimchi and fried shrimp with their turkey and mashed potatoes, and that their big family tradition was going to the movies on Black Friday. 

Mingyu grew up in north Jersey, just a couple houses away from Wonwoo, and his first generation family had gone all in on this new American holiday. Every year they ate turkey (Butterball), mashed potatoes (from a box), stuffing (Stove Top), sweet potatoes (with marshmallows), cranberry jelly (from a can), and pumpkin pie (Costco). Mingyu has grown up to be the sort of person who has a favorite food columnist and a KitchenAid Artisan stand mixer, so the only thing he carries over from his family traditions is a huge desire to gather all his friends around his table. Usually he and Minghao host Friendsgiving a couple weekends after Thanksgiving, because too many of them go to their parents’ houses for the actual day. In this strangest of years, Mingyu has fixated on the idea of feeding everyone, even after Minghao convinces him that their usual group can't safely gather outdoors, due to the virus and the weather. On Monday, he sends a very detailed timetable to their group chat, with lots of threats of what would happen if they aren't around to accept his food delivery.

Junhui and Jihoon are ordered to be ready at 1:20 p.m. and Mingyu and Minghao show up exactly on time, despite the rain and slightly flooded streets. “Happy Thanksgiving!” Mingyu shouts, offering them each an elbow bump from under his umbrella. “I made your favorite mandu again!”

Minghao hands over two hefty paper bags. “We got the wine, too. Thank you. We’ll crack some of the bottles open tonight. You’re going to sign on for Zoom drinks at seven, right?”

Neither Junhui nor Jihoon are prepared to deal with Mingyu’s disappointed puppy face, so they promise they will.

“We’re holding you to that. Now we have to go because we’re double parked and supposed to be at Wonwoo-hyung’s place by 1:35!”

“I stopped drinking after the first month of quarantine, Junnie,” Jihoon admits after Mingyu and Minghao have left. 

Jun laughs. “The good thing about Zoom is that no one can tell when you’re drinking Coke Zero.”

Mingyu’s feast includes half a turkey breast, cranberry sauce, cornbread stuffing, mashed potatoes, roasted Brussel sprouts, buttered green beans, a jar of homemade kimchi, more delicious pork and chive mandu, a pint of homemade vanilla ice cream, and an entire blueberry pie. 

“I thought I was prepared for him to go overboard, but seriously, an entire pie?”

Jihoon looks up from his phone. “Seungcheol says theirs is apple, and apparently Soonyoung and Wonwoo are getting pecan.” 

“We also got the _best_ pie.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Junnie.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Jihoon.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

By Thanksgiving Day, Toph has recovered enough to resist mightily when Wonwoo gives her medicine, so they are back to the towel purrito. “Sorry, baby, but you picked the hard way.” She glares at him as he squirts antibiotics into her resisting month and then wriggles without much success as he instills an antibiotic eyedrop in the corner of each of her green eyes. “You’re looking so much better, though!” He drops a kiss on her fuzzy head before he lets her go. 

She flicks her tail at him in annoyance, then leaps up onto his bed and sits her poopy butt on his pillow.

Wonwoo slips out of his bedroom, using his foot to prevent Katara, who desperately misses her sister, from darting in. She gives him a betrayed look as she contemplates the closed door. 

“That is a dummy on a mission,” says Soonyoung, who is setting the table. “Sooner or later she’s going to sneak by you.”

“We can stop keeping them separate once Toph’s eye discharge is all gone. It looks a lot better today. Maybe Saturday?”

“I still think she’s going to get past us before then, but you’re the boss when it comes to the cats!” Soonyoung looks entirely too amused at Wonwoo’s expense, especially for someone who is definitely wearing a hideous tiger print hoodie for kitten cuddling purposes.

Both of their phones buzz. Soonyoung picks his phone up first and reads, “From Mingyu: in case you were wondering, four o’clock is the correct time to eat Thanksgiving dinner.” 

It’s just past three. Mingyu’s food is already warming in the oven, and Wonwoo is starving. “I won’t tell him if you don’t?”

“Deal.”

Mingyu’s food is delicious, of course, and they take a picture of themselves at the table to send to Mingyu—though they decide to save it to send later. They FaceTime with Wonwoo’s parents and brother, and then Soonyoung talks to his family in California for a bit. His mom and aunties are still cooking, but they are excited to talk to them.

Wonwoo waits until they’re loading the dishwasher together after their meal to be brave. 

“Hey, Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“I watched some of your live last night. The choreo looked really sharp.”

Soonyoung’s ears turn pink. “Thanks. I didn’t think you caught that.”

Wonwoo loads his last plate, then leans back against the kitchen island. “Someone left a comment about you moving back to LA. There were comments about that last week, too.”

He watches for Soonyoung’s reaction as he talks. His roommate freezes for a moment, then slots the cup in his hand into the last empty spot in the upper rack. 

“That was probably one of Jihoon’s friends.”

Wonwoo keeps his voice light with an effort. “Have you been thinking about it?” 

Soonyoung doesn’t answer at first. He closes and latches the dishwasher door and starts the cycle before he turns around to face Wonwoo “I got an offer from a promoter in LA. At first I thought it was just a scammer, but Jihoon knows him. He's legit. He said I could double my audience if I started working with a production crew.”

“And his crew is in LA.”

“Bingo. He asked for an answer by the end of the month.”

“Do you know what you’re going to tell him?” He adds, before Soonyoung can answer, before his courage is completely gone, “You should do what makes you happy, but I’d miss you. Having you here has been better than anything, and I'd miss you more than you know.”

“I already told him no thanks,” Soonyoung says. Wonwoo’s heart lifts, and he’s not sure if it’s okay for him to smile. The pink on Soonyoung’s ears is spreading to his neck. “Wonwoo, I’m going apologize in advance for doing something stupid.”

“What?”

“Just stop me if you don’t like this.”

Wonwoo’s next confused question is cut off by Soonyoung’s lips on his. Wonwoo’s not quite sure how they got here, but he knows he’s definitely wanted to kiss Soonyoung for most of the last week—and if he’s being honest, for a lot longer. His hands find Soonyoung’s hips and tug him closer. 

When they separate for air, Soonyoung seems a little shy. “So that was okay?”

“Except for the part where you’re wearing a tiger print hoodie.”

Soonyoung pulls him back in for another kiss by his ears. “Get used to it.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Wonwoo checks one more time with Soonyoung before launching Zoom on his laptop. “We look fine, right?”

Soonyoung is probably trying to be sexy, but he just looks smug. “No one will be able to tell that we’ve been making out for the last two hours.”

“We could just skip this,” Wonwoo suggests, not for the first time. “We’re already late. It’s probably almost over.”

“And deal with Mingyu’s pouting? No thanks.”

It’s 7:17, and they are the very last of their friends to sign on. Seungkwan is telling a very dramatic story with a lot of hand motions when the others notice Wonwoo and Soonyoung’s late arrival.

“Hyung!” Mingyu shouts, raising his wine glass in a toast. Perhaps he’s not on his first drink of the night. “Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Look who showed up.”

“About time!”

“Sorry we’re late,” Wonwoo says for both of them. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!”

An extreme close-up of Hotpot the cat’s rear end blocks Jun’s and Jihoon’s faces on the screen. There’s a brief scuffle as Junhui drags her away from the camera. She ends up cuddled forcibly against Jun’s chest and looks quite put out until she manages to wriggle away.

Wonwoo is about to say something polite about Mingyu’s food being delicious when he hears someone say, “Oho!”

Jeonghan leans closer to his camera, pulling Seungcheol with him, as if he’s studying his screen very carefully. Wonwoo doesn’t ask what the exclamation was for. Unfortunately, Jeonghan tells all of them anyway.

“Everybody! Everybody! It looks like Wonwoo and Soonyoung have finally realized that they are already dating!”

The call devolves into chaos. Jeonghan is laughing merrily. Seungcheol is slapping Jeonghan’s shoulder and saying, “You can’t just say that!” Mingyu keeps asking if it’s true, and Wonwoo is pretty sure he hears someone—probably Minghao, but maybe Jihoon—mutter something along the lines of “It’s a Thanksgiving miracle.” 

Wonwoo wishes a cat butt would block their webcam. He is tempted to hide his face in his hands, but before he can do anything, Soonyoung takes his hand and squeezes it reassuringly. Then he raises his other hand until all their friends fall silent. Wonwoo remembers that Soonyoung is now a social media professional.

“My friends, I have a very important announcement to make.”

Oh no, Wonwoo thinks, staring longingly at the ALT and F4 keys on his laptop.

“My announcement is this: Jihoonie, I call your bluff.”

Wonwoo sits frozen as Soonyoung plants a wet kiss on the corner of his mouth and waves at the camera before slamming the laptop closed. A moment later, the phone in Wonwoo’s pocket begins to ring, and then Soonyoung’s phone on the sofa cushion beside him does the same. 

“We can talk to them tomorrow,” Soonyoung says cheerfully. “Now where were we?”

Wonwoo puts his face in his hands.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Junhui watches as all of his friends on screen try to summon Wonwoo and Soonyoung back to Zoom with calls and texts.

Seungkwan reports, “They’re still not picking up.”

“The PDA was unnecessary,” Minghao remarks. He refills his wine glass. It’s a very generous pour.

“It’s better than eight months of unresolved sexual tension,” says Jeonghan. He looks meaningfully at the camera.

Junhui looks at Jihoon, who was sitting beside him on the sofa until he laughed so hard that he slid onto the living room floor. Occasionally Jihoon slaps the carpet to express his feelings as another wave of giggles takes away his ability to speak.

Eventually their friends give up on the two apparent lovebirds and return to their previous easy chit-chat about plans for the long weekend. Mingyu and Minghao are planning to go get a Christmas tree. Jeonghan’s younger cousins have been teaching him how to play Among Us. “They kept telling me I was sus!”

“Hyung,” Vernon says, dead serious, “you are the most sus person ever.”

Junhui shows everyone the Dumplings, and then Seungcheol and Jeonghan are excusing themselves to walk their dogs, and the call breaks up. Junhui closes out of Zoom and flops back on the couch. “That was something else.”

“I’ve known Soonyoung Kwon since we were seven,” Jihoon says, finally picking himself off the floor. He sits down next to Junhui and drains the rest of his glass of Coke Zero. “He can still surprise me when he goes full Gemini like that.”

“Did you know he liked Wonwoo?”

Jihoon snorts. “Who do you think has been listening to his pining since summer? They’ll be good for each other. Wonwoo’s always happier when someone is dragging him into their foolery.”

That used to be them, Junhui thinks. Maybe it still can be, when this pandemic is over. “Is that why he called you out at the end?”

“That was part of it,” Jihoon says slowly. He sits up a little straighter, and he reflexively brushes his hair back, as if he still thinks it's long enough to fall in his eyes. Then he offers Junhui a nervous smile. “I kept telling him to talk to Wonwoo instead of me. He finally got mad one day and told me that I couldn’t push him anymore if I wouldn’t talk to you.”

It takes longer than it should for Junhui to unravel Jihoon’s meaning. When he’s sure he’s understood correctly, in his heart and his head, he finds that Jihoon is looking at him steadily, just waiting for him to be ready to hear more.

“You know I don’t let a lot of people get close, Junnie. But I’ve never regretted letting you in.”

“I think I’ve loved you since we were twenty.” The confession spills out, and Junhui thinks he couldn’t have kept it back a minute longer. 

“Can we try this then? And see how it goes?”

Junhui nods. When they kiss, it’s sweeter than blueberry pie.

🐈🐈🐈🐈

One of Seungcheol’s friends adopts the Avatar cats, after Toph’s recovered from her cold and both sisters have been spayed. Nayoung Im has a calmness that Wonwoo finds immediately trustworthy, and anyway, Cheol has vouched for her, which is all the reassurance he needs. 

“I’ll take good care of them,” she says. “They’ll have the best of everything.”

“Send us lots of pictures,” Soonyoung calls. “We love alumni updates!”

“They might be shy at first,” Wonwoo adds, “but if you need to win them over, they’re suckers for sardines.”

🐈🐈🐈🐈

Halfway through December, Soonyoung starts complaining about having never gone on a proper date.

In what he thinks is a reasonable manner, Wonwoo points out that they are already cohabiting and coparenting (cats) and that the pandemic is definitely in its third wave. This logic is not well received. Soonyoung sulks all afternoon.

Later that day, when they’re brushing their teeth at bedtime, Soonyoung abruptly spits out his mouthful of foam and says, “Let’s go to the ocean.”

He is quite literally vibrating with excitement.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen the ocean. So let’s go. It needs to be a _real_ beach, with sand and waves and everything.”

“Then we’ll go to the beach,” says Wonwoo, overwhelmed with fondness. It’s a fairly constant state of being for him these days. He doesn’t kiss Soonyoung’s half-brushed mouth, but he does reach out to squeeze his smiling cheek, because he can. It’s very soft.

On the longest night of the year, they pack up the car with supplies for a winter pandemic beach trip. Cozy layers, hand warmers, assorted snacks, a bottle of hand sanitizer. Wonwoo has his trusty thermos of coffee. He’s pretty sure Soonyoung’s Hydro Flask contains hot cocoa.

They leave Brooklyn well before dawn, and they reach Montauk while it’s still dark. It’s not too cold for winter, but the wind off the water cuts right through their coats. It’s a good thing they’ve bundled up well. Wonwoo holds Soonyoung close as they watch the sun rise over the Atlantic. 

Winter may be here, but the light is returning. There’s reason to believe that maybe this year will be better than the last.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Seventeen’s [Together](https://youtu.be/sfTEECS0W04). Some additional inspiration from Counting Crows’ [A Long December](https://youtu.be/1D5PtyrewSs), which was released in the very special year of 1996. 
> 
> Just so you know, Soonyoung and Wonwoo's couch is inspired by the [Pretty U couch](https://youtu.be/TpHfh9VUOek), which is why Soonyoung spends a lot of the story moving it around.
> 
> There may be real-life rescuers who aren’t cute k-pop boys doing TNR in your city or neighborhood. We live in a world where some people are terrible, and others are in terrible situations, and too many of our systems are broken. Learn more about why TNR is a humane public policy for feral and stray cats and kittens at [alleycat.org](https://www.alleycat.org).
> 
> Ten years ago I adopted two rescue kittens from my local humane society and named them after anime characters, though their names don’t appear anywhere in this fic. One crossed Rainbow Bridge in January of this year after a long illness. The other is still my very best girl. We miss her sister very much. This story is for them, and for everyone else who is waiting for the hope that 2021 might bring.
> 
> This is my first story for Seventeen ficdom! Kudos and comments are super appreciated.
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/intuitionist17)!


End file.
